


Drive On

by klarriel



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Abusive Parents, Alternate Universe - High School, Angst, DeanCas - Freeform, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Sexual Content, Strong Language, Suicidal Thoughts, Underage Sex, badboy!Dean, high school!au
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-03-22
Updated: 2014-03-22
Packaged: 2018-01-16 15:20:20
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,458
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1352233
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/klarriel/pseuds/klarriel
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Castiel feels invisible. Dean Winchester sees him, and saves him, in more ways than one.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Drive On

Castiel almost doesn't see it coming. He’s halfway across the street when he hears a screech of tyres. On instinct, he rushes back, his body millimetres away from the car as it speeds past. The driver doesn't bother to stop, but Castiel doesn't blame him. In fact, he’s almost sad that the driver avoided hitting him.

It would save him the trouble later on.

Today was the day that Castiel was going to kill himself.

-

Walking into his homeroom, he took his seat at the back. Nobody greeted him with a ‘Good morning!’ or a wave, nobody asked what classes he had that day or what he was doing at the weekend. He was invisible; an amoeba in a sea of wonders. He was thankful really, that he hadn't been the subject of the taunting and abuse of the jocks in his classes; he was simply an object in their surroundings. He was no more important to anyone than the chairs they sat on or the cupboards in which they stored their books.

He attended his classes, making sure to work diligently: why be willing to fail now, after all his work?

As usual, he ate lunch alone.

During his last class, AP English Lit, the feeling of unease that settles in his stomach starts to grow. His insides twist with anticipation, yet, despite everything, he feels scared. He pushes his emotions down, instead trying to concentrate on his teacher. Castiel always found Mrs. Hershaw’s words soothing, her language and interpretation of the literature they were studying so full of wonder and passion for her subject. Even though she too found him indistinguishable from his classmates, out of everyone at this school, she would be the one he missed the most.

Castiel’s thoughts are interrupted when the classroom door flings open. Standing there is a boy, clad in jeans and a worn leather jacket, a rucksack slung over one shoulder. His short, brown hair is slightly unkempt, bright green eyes shining out in a sea of freckles, his face a mask of confidence. His eyes sweep round the room, seeming to linger slightly on Castiel’s, although he assumes he's imagining things. Castiel ducks his head, eyes fixed on the paper on his desk.  

“Um…you must be….Dean Winchester?” he hears his teacher say.

“That’s me.”

“Well, seeing as you’re new I’ll excuse you for being late. Come on in and take a seat. I think there’s one near the back, next to Josie.”

Next to Castiel.

Castiel hears footsteps getting closer, and out of the corner of his eye he sees Dean drop his rucksack onto the floor and sink into his seat. In front of Dean, Amanda Symington turns and smiles at him, twirling her hair around her finger.

“Hi.” She whispers, biting her lip.

“How ‘bout we get to know each other a bit better after this?” Dean smirks, his voice low and husky. Amanda nods slowly, smiling as she turns round, her blonde hair whipping round her head.

“Okay, your packs are here,” Mrs. Hershaw declares, handing them to the boy at the top of Castiel’s row, “Just take one and pass them on.”

Castiel waits until the pile gets to him. There's no point in taking one, he wouldn’t want to waste the school’s resources, and so he simply takes the pile and passes it on to Dean.

 “Aren’t you gonna take one?” Dean asks, his brow furrowing.

“I have no need.” Castiel says, before returning his gaze to his book.

He hears a murmered _‘Oh that’s just_ Castiel’, and his head sinks further, concentrating on nothing but his teachers words.

The rest of the class goes by smoothly, and it’s a relief when the bell rings. Castiel grabs his belongings and stuffs them into his bag.  Apart from Dean and Amanda, he is the last person to leave the classroom.

“Thank you for the lesson today Ma’am.” He says to Mrs.Hershaw as he leaves. She gives him a quick ‘Thank you Castiel’, although her eyes never leave her desk as she packs up.

-

It’s raining outside, and at first Castiel contemplates waiting until it eases off before starting his walk home. He dismisses the idea, in the last moments of his life he doesn’t want to think of himself as a coward who makes excuses. He sets off, not sparing a glance for the school behind him. That place was never anything but hell, and he’s glad he’ll never have to return.

Before he left, he cleaned out his locker, not wanting to inconvenience anyone with the task after he was gone, and the large stack of folders and books in his arms is proving to be a problem. He hasn’t gone far when they start to slip, and suddenly they’re falling out of his arms into a puddle on the pavement. He stands, his hair plastered against his face, his nose and fingers cold, his books being ruined in the rain. Perhaps if he stands here long enough, the rain will wash him away.

It’s not until a few moments later that he hears a car drive by, stopping next to him. Someone gets out, and he realises its Dean Winchester, pushing shut the door of the car that almost knocked him over this morning.

“Hey, what the _fuck_ are you _doing_?” Dean shouts over the rain, his leather jacket little protection for his clothes.

“I…” Castiel begins, but he can’t finish.

“Are you high or something?” Dean asks, and Castiel shakes his head. Sighing, Dean stoops to pick up the books and folders on the ground. He opens the backdoor of his car and chucks them onto the seat, closing the door behind him.

“Come on.” He says, gesturing to the car, and Castiel is surprised he finds the will to move to the front passenger door, open it, and sit.

Dean’s door slams shut. They sit in silence for a while, the water pooling on the seats.

“Listen, I’m not one to talk about being messed up, but…” Dean starts, and he turns to face Castiel, “are you alright, man?”

And Castiel breaks. His sobs rack through his body, his head drooping down, his arms wrapping around his body. It’s a while before the engine starts, and Dean is driving. The streets Castiel knows so well and despises so much fly past, and Castiel wonders if they will blur into oblivion if they go fast enough.

Castiel has curled up on himself, his body facing away from Dean, his head resting on the door. He’s not sure what he feels anymore.

“Think you can show me where you live?” Dean asks gruffly, and Castiel had almost forgotten there was someone else there. He nods sitting up and sighing.

“Left.” He murmurs, and he continues to give Dean directions until they’re finaly pulling up to his driveway. The rain’s died off, leaving a marble of puddles all along the road.

“Thank you.” Castiel says softly, reaching to the back of the car and picking up his stuff.

Dean nods, and Castiel can feel his eyes on him, but he doesn’t meet his gaze.

He pulls the door handle, and is about to step out when he’s stopped by Dean’s voice.

“Wait.” Dean says, and reaches into the rucksack in the backseat. He pulls out one of the packs Mrs.Hershaw had been handing out earlier.

“You’re…You’re gonna’ need this.” He explains, placing it into Castiel’s hands, and Castiel can hear the weight in the statement.

_You’re going to be here tomorrow._

Castiel steps out of the car, closing the door. Dean drives off, and Castiel waits until he’s out of sight before turning and walking into his house.

He opens the door, the usual sea of white making him feel like something loud and vibrant, in a world where he doesn’t belong.

His father will be home soon.

Walking into the kitchen, he sees his mother doing the dishes. As he walks in, she turns, and her face droops in disapproval.

“What is the meaning of this?” She asks, “You are soaked through. Your clothes are ruined.”

“I’m sorry Mother.” Castiel says, his eyes downcast, “I forgot my rain jacket. Trust me, it will not happen again.”

His mother sighs, and returns to her task. Castiel walks upstairs, passing by the vacant rooms that used to belong his brothers and sisters, before they left for work or university. Reaching his room, he enters and shuts the door. He drops his bag and books on his bed, sitting down next to them. Reaching over to his bedside cabinet, he opens the bottom drawer; inside is a bottle of paracetamol.

_You’re going to be here tomorrow._

He closes the drawer. 

**Author's Note:**

> Title taken from 'Drive On' by Avalanche City.
> 
> I do not own Supernatural, or any characters affiliated with it.


End file.
